


Aches Build

by beemotionpicture



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Incredible Hulk (2008), The Incredible Hulk (Comics)
Genre: Abuse, Canon, Gen, Origin Story, Slight references to abortion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 23:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16128644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beemotionpicture/pseuds/beemotionpicture
Summary: Child AbuseandRadiation Sickness.There are monsters, here.





	Aches Build

**Four Phases of Acute Radiation Syndrome**

 

 **Prodromal phase:** Symptoms for this stage occur from minutes to days following exposure. The symptoms may last (episodically) for minutes up to several days.

 **Latent phase:** In this stage, the patient looks and feels generally healthy for a few hours or even up to a few weeks.

 **Manifest illness phase:** In this stage the symptoms last from hours up to several months.

 **Death or Recovery:** Most patients who do not recover will die within several months of exposure. The recovery process lasts from several weeks up to years.

  
  
  


**PRODROMAL**

 

This is a story about monsters:

 

One day, a monster was born.

 

Much like any other birth, this started out as a seed—nothing more than a possibility. It grew slowly, insidiously, coaxed by vice and nourished by hate. Out in the world, it grew bigger and stronger. Its poison spread, until the flowers surrounding it withered, and no more good could grow in their place.

 

That day, a father hit his child and became a monster.

 

The man’s son grew up fearing monsters. He was an intelligent boy, but soon learned to hide it. Bruised and battered, the boy escaped—vowing to never turn into something as ugly as his father.

  
  
  


**LATENT**

 

The boy went to school, which cultivated his love of learning and love of science. A clever boy entered university, and a brilliant nuclear physicist left in his place.

 

It was there he met the love of his life, a woman who shone as bright as he did. He fell hard for her; she loved him right back. Finally, things were good for the physicist.

 

But then there was an accident.

 

He made a mistake in the lab that had become his home. Although he was still a man, the physicist was convinced that the radiation had turned him into a monster. This, of course, wasn’t true. He became one much later.

 

Expecting the woman to be horrified, he tried to leave. She tried to convince him to stay and build a new home with her. It worked; they were married the next day.

 

Married life was good for a while. The physicist settled for another job. And though brilliant, neither his coworkers nor his boss seemed to appreciate him. That made him bitter, but after every day at work he could return home to his loving wife.

 

Then there was another accident.

 

The physicist came home one day to the sight of his wife’s radiant smile. When she told him the news, a seed was planted.

 

When he told her to get rid of it, her smile stopped shining. Rebecca Banner had always been meek, but this she was adamant about. She convinced herself he would learn to love the baby, while he convinced himself that the thing in his love’s womb would die.

  
  
  
  


**MANIFEST ILLNESS**

 

Unfortunately for the physicist, Robert Bruce Banner was born at Ohio General on December 18th, 1969. Bruce—ironic how Rebecca had always loved that name. _That was_ his _name,_ Brian thought. Through the glass of the neonatal intensive care unit, the baby was watched by two sets of eyes. One pair shone with delight and wonder, while the other saw a five-pound lump of mutated flesh. _He has a_ monster’s _name_ , Brian thought.

 

The moment he was born, Robert was nothing but a monster, while Bruce was nothing but loved. He was full and content and ignored by his father during those first few years. Bruce blew bubbles at his mom while she kissed his feet, his fist clutched at her finger as she cooed at his bright, curious eyes. The monster stayed away, for a little while.

 

It came back, rabid and green-eyed.

 

Robert was unwanted, an abomination, a mistake. Enough sticks, stones and words were flung for a decade— _along with more than a couple of beer bottles_ , Bruce thought wryly—his father made sure he never forgot that. Bruce’s mom defended him, bled for him, cried for him.

 

Eventually, she died for him.

 

Bruce left Robert behind in the four white walls of the ward his father was sentenced to. He longed for his cousin. Jen was the one person in the world who still cared for him, with whom he had spent countless summers hiding away in the library. She had begged and begged but couldn’t convince Bruce’s aunt to take him in. He couldn’t really blame her.

  
  
  


**DEATH OR RECOVERY**

 

The thing about child abuse is that aches build. And thing is, for Bruce, they never seemed to go away.

 

The ache in his bones stayed when moved in with his dad’s other sister, the one that didn't want him— _neither of them wanted him_ , Bruce reminded himself. He stayed with the one that didn't want him _and_ didn't know what to do with him— _at least with Aunt Elaine I’d have Jen,_ the voice in Bruce’s head that still wanted things said. He was usually very good at ignoring it.

 

He was good at ignoring a lot of things, in fact. Although he never learned to ignore his father, the kids at school weren't very creative with their taunts, and a shove or two near the lockers never left any marks. He was... _okay, I guess_ , Bruce said to himself. What he didn't know was that someone else was with him, watching. And things _weren't okay, so he was going to_ fix it **.**

 

“Bruce? You're shaking,” Betty says. Her powder blue eyes look at him with worry. “You don't have to force yourself.”

 

He had almost killed people. Children, people with families. _Maybe it was a temporary moment of insanity,_ Bruce told himself. He didn't even remember building the bomb.

 

A military man had been the one to pick up the pieces. In proper battle fashion, Bruce was expected to get up, pick up his gun, and charge back into the fray. They paid for his schooling, and armed him with knowledge. They gave him the world for his genius—handing him everything, of course, with great expectations.

 

And years later, he met them. General Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross—another military man, another father, another monster—

 

“Bruce,” Betty says again. “Please. I’m here with you.”

 

 _His only saving grace was that he gave me_ you, Bruce thinks. Or maybe he says it out loud. He can't tell, anymore.

 

She grasps his hand, and he is taken out of it. And to think that it had all started with just a bad dream.

 

 _“It was just a dream, babe. Go back to sleep,”_ she had murmured.

 

And so he did. But months after screaming his throat raw, memories coming back to haunt him in his dreams, she tried to convince him to speak to someone.

 

But Bruce knows he would never speak to a therapist, so here he is, spilling his heart out to the woman he loves.

 

It doesn’t help. Not the first time. Or the second, or the third, even.

 

But he had never died as a kid, and he’s not about to die now.

 

Eventually, Bruce will recover.


End file.
